


Snow Day

by Linguini



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen, Snow Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-11
Packaged: 2017-12-04 22:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linguini/pseuds/Linguini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Douglas and Emily spend a snow day together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow Day

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this Google ad: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMsX1JnGEdE

Douglas watched the snow drifting onto the front garden as he listened to the voice at the other end, a serious look on his face. “Oh. I see. Well...thanks for the info, Jerry.”

With a sigh, he hung up the phone and turned to Emily. “I’m sorry, Ems,” he said. “It’s not good news, I’m afraid.”

Emily looked down at her feet in their pink socks kicking against the chair legs. “It’s alright, Daddy. Even Sky Gods can’t control the weather sometimes.”

“I know,” Douglas said. “Because if I _could_ , I’d have given myself more than a day off.” He watched as realization slowly lit his daughter’s face. 

“Really?! The _whole_ day?!”

Douglas nodded. “The whole day. So...what shall we do first?” He smiled as Emily tugged at his blazer. 

“Play clothes!”

With a jaunty salute, he lugged his flight bag back to his room and changed quickly into jeans and a soft jumper. By the time he made it back out to the kitchen, she had already dug every cooking implement from the drawers and cupboards and was trying to reach the flour canister on the worktop. Douglas stretched over her head and dragged it closer. “What’s the plan, Stan?”

Emily grinned at him. “Pancakes!”

“Alright, then,” Douglas said. “How many do you want?”

“Twenty hundred and six.” She grinned as he rolled his eyes. 

“Quite a lot for a little girl. Do you want lemon or Nutella on yours?”

“Both!” she said happily. “And I’m not little!”

Douglas made a face at her, but complied, doing his best to hide his smile as she happily tucked into her share. It didn’t take long for the first stack to disappear, nor the second. 

Once they’d finished, he cleared the table, sighing as he eyed the mountain of washing up that was the result of Emily’s insistence on helping. “Here,” he said as he tossed a tea towel at her. “Drying duty.”

They settled into a comfortable rhythm until Emily dashed off into the living room. Douglas shook his head when he heard the radio blare to life and chuckled when she returned, dancing along to whatever song Radio 1 was playing. He had a brief moment of concern when she slipped in her socks, but it dissipated in the wake of an idea. Once the last of the plates had been washed, he disappeared into the living room while she finished drying.

“Daddy?” Emily called as she followed him. “Where did you--” Her eyes widened as she took in the mound of cushions, pillows, and blankets he’d piled on the floor.

“What’s this for? Are we making a nest?”

“No,” Douglas said. “Even better. Watch.”

Emily perched herself on the arm of the sofa, peering down the hall as Douglas walked away.

“Ready?” he asked. Emily nodded.

Douglas kicked off his shoes and then ran down the hallway, starting a slide in the doorway to the kitchen and launching himself squarely on the cushion pile. At her applause, he jumped up and executed a deep bow. “Would m’lady desire a turn?”

“Yes, please,” she said and ran off to the starting point.

“Ready, steady.....go!”

Emily took off like a shot, starting her slide a little late and ending up tumbling into the side of the sofa. Douglas was just about to reach down and check on her when a muffled “That. Was. Awesome!” drifted up from the pile. A few tugs got her upright again, and they spent the next half hour inventing new and more impressive stunts until they collapsed, giggling and overheated, onto the cushions.

After a moment to catch her breath, Emily flopped over, resting her elbows against Douglas’s stomach and peering up at him from under her fringe. “Can we go outside?”

Douglas thumped his head against the floor, incredulous at her never-ending stores of energy. “Of course. Go and put your coat on.”

With a shout, she ran off to dig through the closet. Douglas briefly considered feigning injury but dismissed that idea at the sight of her grin.

“ _Daddy_ ,” she said. “Get up! Come oooonn!”

Douglas smiled at her. “Gonna need a little help, I think. Not as young as I used to be.” He waited until Emily extended a hand, then pulled her down on top of him, flipping them so she was pinned to the floor. 

“Ah ha!” he shouted. “I’ve got you now,” and then tickled her until she gasped for mercy, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Mean daddy,” she said, hitting him lightly on the arm.

“Just keeping you sharp,” he said, then tugged her up and sent her outside while he gathered his shoes and coat. With a mighty roar, he tore out of the house, chasing her around the garden, throwing her over his shoulder, and dropping her in convenient snow drifts. Occasionally, he let her “catch” him, growling at her when she took the opportunity to stuff snow down his collar. 

With a gleeful shout, she straddled his chest, pinning his shoulders to the ground.

“Alright, I give,” he said. “You have won a forfeit from me. What would you like?”

“I want to build a snow giraffe!”

“A what?” Douglas blinked at her.

“A snow giraffe.” Emily flopped to the side and started pushing the drift into a solid mound.

Douglas eyed it thoughtfully. “I don’t know that this snow will make legs strong enough to support a giraffe.”

“It’s a _lying down_ giraffe, Daddy. Duh.”

He raised his hands in surrender, then bent to help her shape the snow. “Alright, alright. A lying-down snow giraffe.” 

In the end, their creation more resembled a submarine than a giraffe, but the fallen leaves Emily insisted on putting like spots helped a little. Unfortunately for his freezing hands, her snow-filled ambitions didn’t end with its creation. When Douglas had turned to find more leaves, she lobbed a snowball at him, which wobbled precariously, barely managing to hold its shape, before landing square on the back of his neck. With a rumble like a wounded bear, he turned and stooped to scoop up his own ammunition. He wasn’t fast enough, and two more balls hit the top of his head and dribbled down his neck before he managed to build an arsenal of his own.

After fifteen minutes, they declared a truce and Emily flopped down to make a snow angel. Douglas watched bemusedly from where he was dusting off his jeans until she sneezed twice in quick succession.

“Alright, Ems. Time to go in, I think.”

Emily huffed a sigh and flopped back. “Don’t wanna move.”

He clomped through the drifts until he was stood over her. 

“Help, please, Daddy? I think I’m stuck.”

Douglas chuckled and reached down. Once she had his hand, Emily pulled with all her weight until Douglas overbalanced. He barely managed to avoid landing on her, ending up with a face full of snow in the process. Through the fluff in his ears, he could hear her giggle and flopped over to pin her in the drift and shake his hair out over her. “Traitor.”

“Puppy daddy,” she giggled. “Just keeping you sharp.”

He sighed. “Yes, yes. Too smart for your own good. Now, dry clothes and bring me a towel. March!”

Emily popped up and ran back into the house, changing and running back to the kitchen before he’d even managed to get his shoes off. Douglas took the towel from her and rubbed it briskly over her hair, making it stick up in every direction. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He gave her a kiss.

She grinned and pushed a chair over to see on the cooker. “What are you making?”

“Soup,” he said. “And grilled tomato and cheese sandwiches. Can you get the squash?”

“Yum.” She handed him his glass. 

Lunch was filled with Emily’s account of the last three weeks of school, with her opinions on various books she’d read, music she’d heard, and the possibility of aliens abducting her teacher sprinkled throughout. Douglas decreed that the washing up could wait and proposed a cushion fort. Emily countered with a nest, and they eventually decided on a hybrid-type structure, complete with canon emplacements and a runway for flight training.  
It took several hours, and by the time they were finished (with suitable breaks for two rounds of pillow fighting), it was past time for dinner. Since he could think of nothing distinctly appealing to eat, Douglas offered up popcorn and hot chocolate instead. Emily claimed lack of hunger and agreed, and the evening found them nestled together amongst the blankets and cushions.

“What’re we watching, Ems?”

“The Little Mermaid!”

Douglas managed to stifle a groan, but it was a near thing. “Are you sure you don’t want to watch something else? Aristocats? Or 101 Dalmations?”

She shook her head. “Nope. This one, please, Daddy.”

“Alright, alright.” He slid the DVD in and resigned himself to another round of the damned mermaid and her obnoxious crab. With a sigh, Emily settled herself on his chest, alternating handfuls of popcorn with sips of “Daddy’s Special Hot Chocolate,” which consisted of regular hot chocolate with cinnamon, vanilla, and a bit of whipped topping.

Not even halfway through the movie, she was dead to the world, soft breaths fanning the hair that had fallen across her face. Douglas let the rest of the movie play out, then turned to the news, letting the announcer’s voices lull him to sleep. He knew he’d regret sleeping on the floor in the morning, but at the moment, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.


End file.
